Sunday, July 6, 2014

Michael Estabrook- Three Poems

Terrifying

I hear the drilling and grindingin the next roomcan almost smell itwhile the dentist endeavorsto be calming, encouraging, conciliatory evenher little voice trying to cooperatebetween the high-pitched whiningof the torture device.But her fear comes seeping throughloud and clearand I’m holding myself backfrom barging in there and beating the crapout of the fucking bastardfor hurting my girl.

The Sun

Visiting his old home town

decades later

he’s been dying to drive by old

Smith’s Orchard & Pig Farm

and the ice cream stand

he worked at

those summers so long ago.

But it’s gone now

all of it replaced

by an endless housing development

full of big houses in neat rows

all uniform and clean shining

in the bright sun

which makes his eyes water too.

Inanity

He doesn’t watch the news

because it’s awful, sad, frightful

and frightening, depressing

and mindlessly redundant

and most of the “anchors”

are clueless idiots

more concerned

with their own celebrity

than reporting the news.

Although many of

the “newswomen” are pretty

some even have long legs

and cute bottoms.

Michael
Estabrook is a recently retired baby boomer poet freed finally after
working 40 years for “The Man” and sometimes “The Woman.” No more
useless meetings under florescent lights in stuffy windowless rooms. Now
he’s able to devote serious time to making better poems when he’s not,
of course, trying to satisfy his wife’s legendary Honey-Do List.